


Barre Chords

by kyjr



Category: Johnny's Entertainment, Kanjani8 (Band)
Genre: AU, Angst, Fluff, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-13
Updated: 2013-10-13
Packaged: 2017-12-29 07:14:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1002478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyjr/pseuds/kyjr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Yasuda Shota starts going to guitar lessons, he didn't plan on falling in love with his teacher.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Barre Chords

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to [](http://luna-truths.livejournal.com/profile)[**luna_truths**](http://luna-truths.livejournal.com/) yet again. Originally posted [here.](http://kingdom-lights.livejournal.com/7812.html#cutid1)

Yasuda checked the text again, making sure he was at the right place, before hitching his guitar case further up on his shoulder and walking towards the door. The place was rather hidden amongst cake shops and car service yards, slightly run-down and with cracks in the paint, and it didn't look all that inviting.

He peered in, greeted immediately by a girl in her early-twenties, with short dark hair and piercings. The room was large and spacious, guitars hanging from hooks in the walls and from the ceiling. Music books lined the staircase, new magazines lying near the door. Posters of musicians - new and old - were plastered on every surface that wasn't already covered. There was even a small drumkit, over in the corner, for children, with it's price in bright red letters above it.

The girl told him to go upstairs, and he nodded, awkwardly making his way up the stairs with his guitar. The second floor was more like a reception area, with one table in the middle with out-of-date magazines and old comic books piled on it. Mismatched couches and benches surrounded it, children and their parents quite comfortably resting on them, their instruments sitting on their laps or the ground between their feet.

Yasuda sat gingerly on the edge of one seat, his guitar nestled between his knees as he waited. There was a young girl next to him, all pigtails and chubby cheeks, quietly doing her homework as she waited for her lesson. A boy, still wearing his school uniform, drummed his fingers on the bench beside him, tapping out the song he must have learnt on the piano. There was a corridor off the side of the room, where people were coming and going, their chatter and the dulled noises of students just learning their instruments echoing down the hallway.

"Yasuda Shota?" a voice called, and Yasuda turned, seeing a dark-skinned man in a band t-shirt and worn out jeans standing at the top of the stairs.

"Yes?"

"That you?" the man asked, taking in Yasuda's outfit.

"Yes."

"Well come on, then," he said gruffly, turning and walking down the corridor, pushing open a door with the name 'Nishikido' placed on it's surface. Yasuda hurried after him, accidentally bashing the corner of his guitar case on the doorframe as he entered.

"Oops..."

The room was small, with just enough room for the two of them to sit comfortably infront of one another, on swivel chairs made for boring days behind desks. There were three guitars leaning against the walls, and the man picked one up, resting it on his lap and waiting for Yasuda to sit down. "My name is Nishikido Ryo," he said, once Yasuda had sat down on his own chair. The room was rather cramped and awkward now that Nishikido had closed the door. "Get your guitar out."

"Oh, right..." Yasuda unzipped his guitar case, pulling out a handsome old acoustic. Nishikido hummed, holding out his hand for it and placing his own guitar down.

Nishikido ran his hands over the surface of it, checking the strings and the body, humming again. "Nice guitar," he murmured, looking up at Yasuda and smiling slightly. His left hand formed chords in quick succession, his right plucking the strings carefully and deliberately. "Mm. It has a real good sound. It's not new, is it?"

Yasuda shook his head. "No, I bought it second-hand from my friend."

Nishikido nodded. "I've never heard a guitar sound like that. I'm kinda jealous," he smiled. Yasuda exhaled the breath he had been holding and smiled back, a strange kind of comfort filling the room. Nishikido wasn't all that scary. Not very.

He had dark hair, which rested just above deep black eyes. His face looked sad, although his lips were curved upwards, even when he wasn't smiling. There was a dark mole under one eye, and another near his bottom lip. His fingers were long, but not too dainty; there were callouses on the pads of his fingers. His voice was deep and raspy, his eyelashes long, and Yasuda realised that he was staring. Luckily the other hadn't noticed, as he was now busy tuning Yasuda's guitar.

"Here you go," he said, handing it back to Yasuda. "So, what do you want me to call you?"

"Hmm?" Yasuda placed the instrument on his lap, trying unsuccessfully to copy the natural way Nishikido held the guitar.  
"What should I call you?"

"Oh, Yasu will be fine," he answered, watching in awe as Nishikido pulled his guitar back up and started plucking the strings as he listened.

"Yasu. Okay. So," Nishikido said, righting himself in his chair and reaching for an exercise book on the small table in the corner, "do you know anything about playing?"

Yasu thought back on the time he had played piano when he was twelve, clumsily pressing those white keys as his teacher told him to. "No," he said, shaking his head, "not really."

Nishikido nodded, and grabbed a pen, quickly jotting down letters down on the paper. "So, here is the first chord you're going to learn," he said, putting the book down on a music stand. "You put your fingers here..." Yasu looked up at Nishikido, who was suddenly much closer, moving Yasu's own fingers over the fretboard. "And that's an A major chord. Strum it?"

Yasu nodded, using his plectrum to strum the strings, and Nishikido nodded. "Good," he said, "You've got good pressure. Not many first-timers have that." Yasu just nodded back, glad he was doing something right.

They kept on for half an hour, Nishikido showing Yasu where to put his fingers and then telling him which chord he had just made. He then wrote it down in the book, small imperfect diagrams showing him how to make the chords if he forgot. By the end of the lesson, he had learnt three chords, and the beginnings of reading music - something that Nishikido said he didn't have to learn, but he wanted to.

 

>>><<<

 

"So, how'd it go?" Murakami asked, trailing after Yasu as he made his way into the kitchen.

"Fine," was all Yasu said, filling a glass with water before drinking it. "Did you know that he was--"

"Hot? Yes."

"I hate you," Yasu whined, slumping against the counter. "Why?"

"Why what?" Murakami laughed, patting him on the back. "He's the best teacher around, seriously. You've seen Subaru - look at what he can do on guitar. And Ryo taught him."

"Yeah, yeah, I know."

 

"...do you like him?"

"No, of course I-- what do yo-- just who do you take me for, Hina?" Yasu spluttered, eyes wide. "I just met the guy!"

"Yes, and I'm sure he was impressed by those stripes," Murakami said dryly, gesturing to Yasu's current shirt. Yasu liked to express his individuality, especially in his clothes. Not everyone appreciated it, however.

"Most likely, yes," Yasu shot back, smiling widely as he glided past Murakami and into his bedroom. "I'm gonna practice now!"  
He and Murakami Shingo had been friends since high school. They had passed exams together, graduated together, and were now living together in a small apartment. It wasn't much, but it was home, with it's ratty old carpet and microwave that would only work every few days (if you hit it at the top right-hand corner hard enough).

Yasu's room was small, painted a light blue colour - well it had been, before he had gotten bored and started drawing all over the walls. There was a chest of drawers standing in one of the corners, his bed in another, and a large bookshelf which barely fit in the room. Books of all sizes were crammed onto it's shelves, random little ornaments slotted into any small spaces between the spines. Posters and magazine clippings were taped to the wall, a little wooden desk pushed against the wall with papers and pens strewn across it's surface. Clothes littered the floor, of all colours and sizes.

Yasu sat on his bed, spreading out the exercise book infront of him and setting his guitar on his lap. His fingers took a while to find the right strings, and even then the strings hummed in annoyance when he strummed them. He pressed harder, and the sound was clearer, but after a while his fingers hurt and he had to pause.

Murakami heard him playing, from the kitchen where he was preparing dinner - nothing much, just rice and chicken - and cringed. Oh, he hoped Yasu would get better.

"I love this guitar!" Yasu yelled, and Murakami could only laugh.

  
>>><<<

 

"Just head right in, Yasu."

It had been a month since Yasu had started his lessons. "Ah?" Nishikido said, as he came into the small room, sitting down on his chair and bringing his own guitar up. "No polka-dots today?" Yasu's fashion was a constant target to the sharp-tongued Nishikido. Yasu liked the way he dressed - bright colours and contrasting patterns layered over one another until he was happy with the outcome. Whatever it was, Nishikido would pick on it.

"No, not today, they didn't go well with the pink," he said calmly, as Nishikido took his book from him and started writing down more chords.

"Mm," Nishikido muttered, "Because the brown and green zigzags match the pink perfectly."

"Who are you to talk?" Yasu countered, earning a small smile from Nishikido. "You always wear band shirts and the same jeans every time I see you."

"I don't want to look like a walking, talking circus act, thankyou."

"Yeah, well, I don't want to look like a moving advertisement."

Nishikido paused in his writing, looking up at him. "Nicely played."

"Thankyou."

"Now, play an A major."

The rest of the lesson was spent with Yasu placing his fingers on the wrong strings on the wrong fret. Nishikido would laugh, and wheel his chair closer, moving Yasu's fingers with his own and pressing down gently. "There," he would say, softly, and Yasu would just be getting used to the feel of Nishikido's fingertips on his knuckles before they were gone.

"Now," Nishikido stated, picking up his guitar again, "We're learning an F major chord."

This one was more difficult than the others - one finger had to press down two strings at the same time, whilst two others were  
stretched further across the fretboard. He strummed the guitar, and cringed. "Ah."

"Yes, well," Nishikido coughed. "It's gonna be difficult. Just practice, okay?"

"Stupid chord..." Yasu mumbled, trying again. Still nothing.

Nishikido laughed. "You'll be fine, just keep practicing, okay?"

"I'll try..."

  
>>><<<

 

Yasu never got the F major chord right. He tried, but he just couldn't get that finger to press down right.

"Are you still annoyed by that?" Murakami asked in a dull voice, stuffing more lettuce into his mouth.

"Yes," Yasu muttered, head resting on one hand as the other prodded at his dinner. "It's bugging me."

"Hey, Ryo's playing tonight," Murakami said suddenly, causing Yasu to sit up in his chair.

"Where?"

Murakami grinned. "At the bar - the one in the city? I don't know what it's called... it's got three monkey statues on top of it. Want to go?"

Yasu nodded. "I know where that is!"

"It's...kind of impossible to miss. Those monkeys are creepy," Murakami shuddered, quickly finishing his dinner. Yasu followed, excited, quickly grabbing a jacket and locking the apartment door behind him. "Did you really have to wear something so.... eye-grabbing?" Murakami asked, but Yasu ignored him, stretching his arms out and loving the feel of the late-night air on his face.

They caught a bus, four dollars thirty each, and sat near the back. Murakami pulled out his phone, going through his contacts to invite them, too, but Yasu just watched the scenery flash by, all greens and blacks and whites. He'd never actually heard Ryo play before - well, except those times when he was teaching him songs.

It took them an hour and a half to get to the city, thanking the driver and crossing the street. The outside of the bar was fancy, made of sandstone and with a slight overhang where those three monkeys sat. It was rather grand for a simple bar, but it gave a nice feeling, and as they stepped inside, that feeling didn't change.

It was rather large inside, with tastefully decorated walls and shelves, the interior painted a deep red colour. On one side there was a bar, the back wall of which was covered in rows upon rows of different bottles of alcohol. The bartender was a tall young man, wearing a suit and tie and whisking around the bar, teatowel thrown over one shoulder. There was a small crowd, and Yasu and Murakami managed to get a seat at a little, round table.

"Ah, I'll be right back - gotta order drinks," Murakami said, flashing a smile to Yasu before disappearing. Yasu just nodded, Murakami would know what to order for him. There was a stage infront of the tables, men calmly walking on and off of it, placing a table here; a chair there. The lighting was dim, but not too bad, and Yasu could make out the form of Murakami walking back to their table.

"Back!" he exclaimed happily, setting down their drinks with a flourish. Yasu laughed.

"Thanks," he said, bringing the glass closer and taking a sip. "Ah... so when's Nishikido on?"

Murakami shrugged. "The bartender said something about him being after the girl on now," he answered, "but I think he may have been talking about something else..."

Yasu gave him a look, before taking another sip and glancing around the place. "I've never been here before. It's nice."

Murakami nodded. "I came here with... Subaru? Was it Subaru? Anyway, we came to see some band that he loved. And then he told me that Ryo was playing, so..."

"So that's why we're here," Yasu finished, smiling. Murakami nodded, sighing and resting back against the chair.

"Yup. Sitting here, listening to this chick singing about lost love in fairytales is so much fun," Murakami yawned. Yasu elbowed him. "Okay, okay, she's alright. So... do we like Ryo yet?"

"What? What do you mean?" Yasu asked, his heart jolting a little.

Murakami just rolled his eyes. "You and Ryo. Is he your boyfriend yet?" he asked bluntly.

"Wha-- no! Hina, I just met him - and he's probably got someone already," Yasu said, slightly flustered and embarrassed.

"Sure, whatever. It's only a matter of time..." Murakami laughed as Yasu swatted at him, quickly shushing him as the girl on-stage with the green guitar bowed and left the stage. "Oh, your boyfriend is on next!" he said with a high pitched, mocking voice. He laughed again when Yasu pushed him.

Nishikido stepped onstage, his battered acoustic guitar in one hand. He sat up on the large stool in the centre of the stage, adjusting the microphone stand and getting comfortable. Yasu smiled and waved at him, and Nishikido's eyes widened before he smiled, nodding back.

The crowd was in no way silenced by Nishikido's presence onstage; they kept talking and clinking their glasses together, ignoring him. Nishikido didn't seem to mind, though, as he adjusted the strap on his guitar and checked to make sure everything was alright before he started singing.

The song was slow, and Nishikido's voice was husky and raw, with pure emotion. Yasu was drawn in straight away, watching in awe as Nishikido's fingers skillfully shaped chord after chord, plucking the right strings without even looking. Nishikido's voice was slightly haunting, the way it would just fade out before he launched into yet another verse. One foot tapped the rhythm on the ground, eyes closed, as he felt the music within himself.

Yasu stopped breathing as Nishikido paused, his hands stilling on his guitar as he kept singing, voice starting out quiet but rising steadily until he was strumming again, the sound of the strings reverberating around the room and through Yasu's bones.  
Nishikido finished the song, stopping to take a sip from his water bottle on the floor, before settling back onto his chair and smiling over at Yasu. Yasu was smiling so wide, he was worried his face was about to split in two. Murakami laughed, shaking his head and stalking off to buy another drink. Yasu's drink was left untouched. "You're such a fanboy," Murakami said as he came back.

"Yes, I know, shut up."

  
>>><<<

 

"So, you came and saw me the other night," Nishikido started, as soon as Yasu walked through the door.

"Oh, uh-- yes," he answered, sitting down and bringing his guitar out. Nishikido held out a hand, and Yasu handed over the instrument. "It was really good," he added, as Nishikido began to tune his guitar.

"You liked it?"

"Yes," Yasu said, nodding eagerly. "I was there for ages." He and Murakami had stayed until one the next morning.

To his surprise, Nishikido laughed. "Yes, I know, I saw you. Your friend was rather drunk, wasn't he?"

"Yes," Yasu said, taking back his guitar and setting it down on his lap, "He didn't want to stay, but I made him."

"What? Why?"

"Well, I didn't want to go home alone... and he's fun when he's drunk," Yasu admitted, causing Nishikido to throw his head back and laugh. Yasu smiled at the sight.

"Ah... you're a terrible friend, Zig-Zags," he said, before getting Yasu to show him his F major chord.

And thus a nickname was born.

 

>>><<<

　

Yasu had always found Nishikido attractive. But it was another week, when they were sitting in that room, and Nishikido wheeled forward to gently place Yasu's fingers on the fretboard to show him a barre chord, that Yasu felt his heart speed up. Nishikido's fingers were long and delicate-looking, and they were soft against his own as they carefully moved them to the right places.

And Yasu was certain that they didn't need to linger that long.

"It'll take you a while to get it," Nishikido said bluntly, reaching for his own guitar again and clearing his throat. "Because you're _still_ complaining about that F major chord - and the F minor."

"They're difficult!" Yasu exclaimed. "Shut up!"

Nishikido's eyebrows shot up, and he laughed. "You've never told me to shut up before."

Yasu could feel his face reddening. "Yeah, well... I do that."

Nishikido laughed again, plucking at his own guitar strings. "Yeah, sure, Zig-Zags. Get working on those barre chords!"

"I'm trying!" Yasu said, laughing as his fingers somehow managed to entangle themselves. Nishikido rolled his eyes. Yasu pressed his whole index finger down onto the strings, placing the other three down where Nishikido had told him to. "Like this?"

Nishikido hummed, before moving closer again and strumming Yasu's guitar. It made a sound so terrible, they both looked at the other and grimaced. Nishikido flicked Yasu's pink hat before moving back and writing something down in his book, as Yasu tried to press harder.

"My fingers hurt," he complained, "Look, they're all red..."

"Oh, stop your whining," Nishikido chuckled. "You'll get used to it."

Yasu grumbled, before trying once more. It sounded a little better than the time before, and he looked up at Nishikido with a wide smile on his face. Nishikido looked at him a little, with an indescribable something in his eyes, before smiling back and nodding.

"Nice, Zig-Zags, you'll get there."

 

>>><<<

 

 

But Yasu didn't get there. He practiced every day to the point where he had to stop not because he wanted to, but because his fingers were aching. Also because Murakami had threatened him if he played after nine o'clock at night.

And he didn't really understand the _point_ of the chords, even though Nishikido had explained it to him too many times to count. So one day after their lesson, Nishikido turned to an exasperated Yasu and asked, "Why don't I give you lessons?"

Yasu just stared at him. "But you already are."

Nishikido sighed. "No, I mean... private lessons," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Just-- Just because you seem to be really struggling with this and... because it looks like you're gonna lose sleep over it--"

"Okay," Yasu all but breathed, "That sounds good." Anything to have Nishikido smile at him like that again.

He left that day with Nishikido's address tucked into his pocket.

 

>>><<<

 

Nishikido couldn't schedule Yasu in that week for their first private lesson, as he was too busy at gigs, so the next time Yasu saw him was at his regular lesson.

"Hey," Nishikido said, smiling.

"Hi."

"I see you have a new pair of sneakers," Nishikido noted, "and they're purple."

"Yes," Yasu smiled.

"With stars."

"Yes."

Nishikido regarded him a moment, before saying, in a tone quite unlike anything Yasu had ever heard from him before, "You're one unique person, Zig-Zags."

Yasu didn't know how to reply to that, so he just settled for, "Thankyou."

That lesson, Nishikido taught Yasu a song, to help him with changing chords faster. Nishikido kept laughing at him because everytime he would form a chord, he would pause and look up at Nishikido, asking if it was alright. "You've been practicing these for weeks, almost months, now," he would say, "You should know them!"

Yasu did know them, but he wanted to make sure. His hands were slightly sweaty and shaking a little - he was nervous, being in such a small room with Nishikido, who was watching his every movement. Well, he was watching what Yasu was doing with the guitar.

And again, the lesson ended, the whole half an hour going too fast for the both of them. Yasu fumbled over the zipper to his guitar case as Nishikido watched him, quickly shouldering it and sighing. "Well--"

"I always look forward to your lessons," Nishikido said, smiling slightly. Yasu's heartbeat quickened. Nishikido's eyes were soft and maybe he was just imagining it but he _really_ hoped he wasn't.

"Really?" he asked.

"Mm," was all Nishikido said. Then, "Get your ass outta here, I've got a thirteen year old coming in next who thinks he's the next Elvis."

"Oh dear God."

"You don't have to put up with him."

 

>>><<<

 

 

Yasu took the bus over to Nishikido's house that Saturday, annoying the rest of the passengers with his bulky guitar case, but he didn't care. He practically bounded up to the door, a massive smile on his face as he rang the doorbell and waited for Nishikido to answer.

The house was small, with a tiny front garden and a wrought-iron fence. The house was practically pressed up against the houses on either side of it. It looked nice, though, with a heavy wooden door and pale cream exterior. There was a bird cage next to the door, and Yasu peered into it, finding a small yellow canary, who hopped backwards and forwards between it's perches.

"Hello," he said. "Nice to meet you."

Yasu rang the doorbell, and the door eventually opened, revealing Nishikido in his boxers and a too-large shirt. "Ah," was all he said, before he slammed the door closed, leaving Yasu slightly stunned. The door re-opened again, a sheepish Nishikido peering out from behind it. "...Sorry, come in."

Inside, the house was actually quite large. There was a long corridor, lined with posters and photographs hanging on the walls, with four doors leading off it. Nishikido disappeared through one, telling Yasu to keep walking down the hallway and to make himself at home. It was quite easy, Yasu thought, to feel comfortable in this house. As soon as he reached the end of the hall the house opened up into a beautiful airy kitchen and living room. Yasu perched himself down on an armchair, glancing about at the large bookshelf which held only CDs, thousands of them stacked neatly beside each other.

"Sorry about that," Nishikido said, pulling a t-shirt over his head as he walked into the room.

"It's not a problem," Yasu managed to squeeze out, his breath caught in his throat. Under those simple shirts, Nishikido had a nice body. A very nice body.

Nishikido yawned loudly. "So how do you want to start?" he asked, ruffling his hair. Yasu had to wrench his eyes away.  
"Uh... I don't care," he answered, those deep eyes turning to look at him.

"'Kay...then we'll work on those barre chords," Nishikido said, nodding to himself. "D'you want a coffee?"

"Yes, that'd be nice," Yasu said, smiling and trying to calm his heart. He busied himself with unzipping his guitar case and pulling the instrument out.

A few hours later found the two sprawled on the floor, Nishikido on his stomach and Yasu sitting cross-legged with his guitar in his lap. Yasu was getting better at the barre chords, but Nishikido got him to stop, changing instead to learning a new song. "Ah," Yasu groaned, "It doesn't sound anything like what it's meant to!"

Nishikido laughed, rolling onto his back and looking up at Yasu. "Just learn to play the chords, and then try to figure out how to make it sound right," he said. Yasu nodded.

"Hey," Nishikido said, in a strange voice. Yasu looked back up. "There's a party on tomorrow night. Wanna go?" he asked, picking at a spot on the carpet.

Yasu felt his heartbeat speed back up. Was Nishikido asking him out? No, that couldn't be. "Uh...yeah, okay," was all Yasu managed to say, not trusting his own voice. Nishikido's face lit up.

"Awesome! I'll pick you up at eight, okay?" Nishikido smiled widely.

"You don't know where I live."

"Well tell me, then," he said, and Yasu quickly scribbled his address down on a piece of scrap paper and handed it to him.

Nishikido nodded, reading it. "I know where that is."

"Ah," Yasu said, "Good."

Nishikido nodded. "You can bring that friend of yours, if you want."

Yasu's smile dimmed. "Oh," he muttered. Then, "Yeah, okay."

So it wasn't a date. Of course. Yasu was a fool to even get his hopes up.

Nishikido was somewhat happier after that, even offering to cook lunch for the two. Yasu had to laugh as he donned an apron, quickly moving around the kitchen and pulling out ingredients here and there. "What're you making?" Yasu asked, perching himself on one of the stools at the kitchen bench.

"Pasta. That okay?" Nishikido asked, knife paused midair over the parsley he was chopping. Yasu nodded, and Nishikido continued.

"Never would have taken you for the cooking type," Yasu teased, as he watched Nishikido work.

"Yeah, well... can't live on take-out for the rest of my life," he laughed, turning his back on Yasu as he stirred the pot. "You just kinda have to learn, y'know?"

"No," Yasu admitted. "I don't cook, my roommate does."

Nishikido paused. "The... guy who you came to the gig with?"

"Yep, that's Murakami," Yasu said, swinging his legs. "Been friends for years now."

"Oh?" Nishikido asked, holding out a wooden spoon for Yasu to taste. "Is this okay?" Yasu leant forward and sipped at it, feeling self-conscious as Nishikido's eyes watched him. He nodded, delighting in the way Nishikido's face lit up. "So this Maruyama--"

"Murakami."

"Whatever. So this Murayama person, he's just a roommate?" Nishikido asked, nonchalantly. Yasu's eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

"Yeah... why?"

"No reason - hey, can you pass me the salt?" Yasu took the salt shaker in his hands, refusing to give it to the other. Nishikido frowned. "What?"

"Tell me why, and I'll give it to you."

Nishikido sighed. "It's nothing, really. Let it drop, Zig-Zags."

Lunch was delicious, judging by the large sauce stains now splashed upon Yasu's shirt and shorts. Nishikido laughed at him, mouth full of pasta.

"You gonna keep going on with those chords after this?" Nishikido asked, spearing more pasta onto his fork.

"Mm," Yasu answered, descreetly rubbing at the stains on his clothes. "I suppose."

"Barre chords?"

"Yeah. Stupid things."

Nishikido laughed.

 

>>><<<

 

 

The party was the next day, and Yasu ran around the house, trying desperately to find clothes that were clean. Murakami sat at the table, cradling a cup of coffee and watching his roommate being completely and utterly irrational. He would pick up a shirt before shaking his head and discarding it, moving on to another pile of clothes and looking it over.

Then the doorbell rang and Murakami thought Yasu might pee himself.

"Is your boyfriend waiting?" he laughed, and Yasu punched him.

"Shut up!" he hissed, before moving to the door and quickly fixing his hair in the hall mirror.

"You're not really...proving me wrong, Yasu," Murakami said, chuckling and leaning against the wall.

"Shush," Yasu whispered, finally opening the door.

Nishikido stood there, black hair as ruffled as always, with a white button-down shirt and dark blue jeans. Yasu's breath seemed to be caught in his throat once again as he gazed at the man before him, all simple elegance. He heard Murakami clear his throat behind him but he gave him no heed, until Nishikido raised an eyebrow at him and he quickly came to his senses.

"Anyway - hi! I'm Murakami Shingo," Murakami said, stepping forward and holding out a hand, "and I have a girlfriend."

Nishikido took his hand. "Nishikido Ryo. You're Subaru's friend, right?" Murakami nodded, and suddenly there was an awkward silence.

"So I'm not coming tonight," Murakami announced, clapping Yasu on the shoulder.

"Wha--"

"Have a good time!" Murakami winked at him.

"But you were coming two seconds ago--"

"Well I changed my mind!" Murakami said through clenched teeth. "Now go. Have fun."

Nishikido had moved back to the door. "Nice to meet you, Murayami."

"Ah, it's Mura--"

The door closed in his face.

 

>>><<<

 

The house the party was held at was quite grand, with white walls both inside and out. There was a huge fountain out the front, water rising up into the air from a stone fish in the middle. Two large stone lion sculptures greeted them as they drove in, and Nishikido had to laugh at Yasu's awed expression.

"This is Ueda's place," he said, as a way of explanation.

"What the hell does this Ueda do?" he asked, leaning forward in the hopes of seeing more.

"He teaches where I do," Nishikido shrugged, concentrating on driving. "Teaches piano. But his parents are rich, I don't know how. He's kind of a bastard, but kind of really fun."

"By 'fun', what do you--"

"I like to pick on him," Nishikido grinned, and Yasu laughed.

"Of course."

"Yep."

He parked and they stepped out, walking through the brisk night air to the house. "Ueda!" Nishikido shouted, banging on the door, even though there was music blaring inside. "Ueda you bastard, open up!"

The door opened a little later, revealing a man the same height as Nishikido, with copper hair which fell nicely over his eyes. He had large brown eyes, and fine features, with a single, long earring hanging from his left ear. He smirked, leaning against the door, crossing his arms. He wore a large light blue shirt, which hung off his thin body, and tight black jeans. "Oh, it's Nishikido."

"Ueda," Nishikido said, jerking his head towards the other. Suddenly, Ueda's face broke into a wide smile, as did Nishikido's, and they pulled the other into a hug. "Long time no see."

They parted, and Yasu felt the jealousy rise up as this Ueda kept gazing at Nishikido with this strange expression. Ueda laughed. "Mm. It's good to see you."

And then Nishikido seemed to remember Yasu. "Ah," he said, dragging Yasu next to him. "This is Yasuda Shota."

"Or, 'the after-thought'," Yasu muttered, but both Ueda and Nishikido caught it. Nishikido's face dropped. Ueda's eyebrows shot up, and he looked between the two.

"...Hi," Ueda said, smiling and holding a hand out. Yasu shook it, smiling back. "I like your... stars," he said, gesturing towards Yasu's jacket.

"Thankyou."

"Come on, Zig-Zags, lets head on in." Nishikido moved past Ueda, grabbing Yasu by the elbow and dragging him in. Ueda watched the exchange with raised eyebrows.

"Zig-Zags?"

The inside of the place was filled with golden statues and fancy furniture. Yasu felt rather silly, standing in the middle of the polished marble floor with his old sneakers. There were paintings on the walls, all beautiful detail and exquisite frames, and Yasu had to wonder why they were having such a party in here. Because there was definitely a party, judging by the people walking around the place, lifting crystal vases and staring at the chandeliers. There was music coming from somewhere, the bass beating through Yasu's bones.

"Oh, God-- put that down! Damn it, Akanishi--" Ueda rushed off, quickly grabbing a man who clearly had too much to drink. He carefully took hold of the glass figurine from the other, and sighed in relief when Akanishi stumbled away.

"How was England?" Nishikido asked, as Ueda led them through the house, out to the living room and kitchen, where there were more people.

"Eh, it was okay," Ueda answered, pouring the both of them a drink. "But y'know. I was there for work, so..."

"So...?" Nishikido copied. Ueda gave him a look as he passed Yasu his cup.

"So I wasn't able to enjoy myself as much as I wanted to."

"Wait, what work?" Nishikido suddenly asked, taking his own cup.

Ueda rolled his eyes at Yasu, who had to laugh. He was quickly warming to him. "Work with dad," he said, leaning against the table. "It's no fun, I don't wanna go into it."

"'Kay..." Nishikido said, taking a sip. "Oh, Jin's got your stuffed monkey."

"For fucks sake Akanishi!" Ueda roared, storming off outside to where Akanishi was throwing an old brown monkey toy up in the air. Ueda tackled him to the ground.

"He's gonna kill him," Nishikido said nonchalantly, taking another sip at his drink. Yasu turned to him. "He tries to keep that monkey a secret."

"Why?" Yasu asked, as they moved into the living room, where a large group of people stood around, chattering loudly. Nishikido managed to find them a seat on the couch.

"Ah, cause he can't sleep without it. But he acts all tough and worldly, y'know?" Nishikido chuckled. Yasu smiled.

The two spoke of nothing and of everything for the rest of the night. Yasu learnt that Nishikido was scared of spiders, that he hated rap music, and that he had gone blonde not once, but twice. "Never again," he shuddered. Yasu hit him.

"Then why did you do it a second time?!" he asked, laughing.

"Because I was young and stupid!" Nishikido said, pushing Yasu over. "Stop being so mean to me!"

"Oh? You're being mean to the Nishikido Ryo?" Ueda asked, perching himself on the armrest of the couch and smiling widely. "You, my dear Yasuda, are my new best friend."

"Shove off, Ueda!" Nishikido shouted, now pushing Ueda off the couch. Ueda flicked him in the forehead, laughing, and walked away again. "Man he's annoying."

Yasu just laughed, slowly feeling the alcohol working in his body. He had only had two drinks so far, but Nishikido had gone through five in the last two hours, and was still drinking. "Do you think you should... slow down at all?" Yasu asked, watching as Nishikido drained his cup.

"Nah, I'm good," he said, holding his cup up in the air and waiting for someone to refill it.

"Seriously?"

"I don't get to party like this often, cause I go to work, have gigs, go to sleep, then go to work again," Nishikido explained, his speech slightly slurred. "Hey, Shota!"

Yasu jumped. Nishikido had never spoken his first name before. "Yes?"

"I like guitars."

Yasu groaned. "Yes. Yes, I know." He cast his eye around for Ueda, quickly excusing himself from Nishikido's company and trying to find the other. "Ueda?"

He found him in the kitchen, back pressed against the kitchen counter as another, taller man kissed him deeply. "Oh!" Yasu uttered, surprised. "I'm sorry!"

The two tore away quickly, the taller man bowing his head and hiding his eyes with his hair. "Oh, uh-- Yasuda. What- what is it you wanted?" Ueda asked, turning towards him. Yasu tried to ignore how breathless Ueda was.

"Nishikido. He's drunk. What should I do? I mean... he drove tonight."

Ueda rolled his eyes, placing a gentle hand on the man's hip. "That idiot. Okay, you can stay here tonight. Is that alright with you?"  
Yasu heard the other man mutter, "It's not alright with me", but Ueda tsked and whispered back, "Shush, Nakamaru." Ueda turned his large eyes onto Yasu.

He quickly nodded, bowing a little. "Thankyou," he said. Ueda smiled.

"Nishikido's the one with the black hair?" the man - Nakamaru - asked suddenly, looking out of the window.  
"Yes?"

"With a white shirt?"

"Yes."

"He's in the pool."

"Oh for f--"

It took the three of them - and a very drunk Akanishi - to pull Nishikido out of the water. The water made his shirt cling to his body, all see-through and dripping, and Yasu had a hard time wrenching his eyes away from the strip of tan skin that was bared. "Eyes up, honey," Ueda whispered into his ear, and he jumped again. Ueda laughed.

They struggled through the doors, and up the stairs, where they practically dumped Nishikido onto the bed. "Whee..."

Ueda dusted off his hands. "Well - you'd better stay here with him, then," he said, and Yasu nodded. There was no way he was leaving Nishikido by himself. "Get off me, you leech," Ueda snapped, slapping at Akanishi's hand, which had been creeping up his neck. Akanishi giggled and ran down the stairs. Nakamaru sighed, turning to leave as well, but Ueda quickly grabbed him as he moved past and kissed him. "I'll be there soon."

"I'll kick everyone out," Nakamaru sighed. Ueda smiled.

"Good luck with Akanishi," Yasu called out, and Ueda laughed, before sighing and putting his hands on his hips.

"Now, Nishikido," he said, looking down at the man lying sprawled-eagle on the bed.

"Yes?"

"You have to get changed. And you're staying here tonight. No arguments," Ueda quickly added, seeing Nishikido about to protest. Nishikido promptly burst into giggles. Ueda threw his hands up and turned to Yasu. "I'm gonna lend you some clothes to give to him. That okay?"

Yasu's eyebrows knitted together. "Why wouldn't it be okay?"

"Cause I didn't think that you'd like him wearing another man's clothes," Ueda said with a wink, before walking out the door.  
Yasu stood there, confused, until something kicked in and he started moving. He heaved Nishikido up, pushing him into the adjoining bathroom. "Take a shower!" he shouted. He heard Nishikido mumble something. "But don't take too long, or I'll think you'd have drowned!"

He heard Ueda's laugh behind him, and turned to see him with an armful of clothes. "Here," he said, giving them to Yasu, who thanked him. "Good luck with that idiot." Ueda paused in the doorway, seemingly thinking something over before he added, "Oh and by the way... he kicks in his sleep."

Yasu went beet-red, very quickly realising that there was only one queen-sized bed in the room. Surely Ueda would have some other room he could stay in? Not that he didn't want to share the bed with-- but that wasn't the point, here. And Nishikido did look very nice all wet, the water running down his body and-- and there went Yasu's mind, getting all distracted again.

It happened a lot, especially whenever Nishikido was concerned.

Nishikido banged on the door, and Yasu quickly opened it, throwing in the clothes, before shutting it just as fast. His heartbeat was already too rapid, he didn't need a naked Nishikido stirring it up even more.

"I'm done!" Nishikido called, opening the door and rushing to the bed. He snuggled under the covers, sniffling a little. "Come on, Zig-Zags, I'm tired already."

Yasu sighed, finding no way out of it. He toed off his shoes, shedding his jacket and slipped under the covers, awkwardly laying his body down the furthest he could from the other. He heard Nishikido chuckle, but soon his breathing became regular, and he was asleep.

Yasu turned, watching the other in the strange blue lighting coming through the window. Nishikido's hair was still rather damp, water dripping off the ends and trailing down his cheek. Yasu reached out a hand, wiping it away, letting his hand linger there a little, feeling the warmth coming from his body. Nishikido made a noise deep in his throat and moved a little, causing Yasu's hand to slip down onto his neck. Yasu felt the steady pace of Nishikido's heartbeat under his palm, oddly calming.

And with that, Yasu fell asleep.

 

>>><<<

 

The next morning was not as awkward as Yasu expected it to be, what with Ueda waking them up by throwing off the covers and pushing Nishikido off. "Get up!" he shouted, then rounding on Yasu, who shrunk back. "You too! Get up, get out!"

"Wha...?" Nishikido managed to say, before groaning and clutching his head. "Fuck."

"It's your own fault," Ueda said, standing there fully-dressed and wide-awake.

"It's only seven thirty," Yasu complained, earning a glare.

"Yes, but I have to get to work!" Ueda snapped, "And so does Ryo!"

"And so do I," Yasu gasped, rushing to put his shoes on. "Hina is gonna kill me."

"Ryo! Clothes!" Ueda yelled, before leaving them. Nishikido groaned.

"Why is he so... Ueda-like..." he grumbled to himself, managing to find his clothes.

Once the two were dressed, they were practically kicked out of the house. Yasu was sure he had glimpsed a ruffled-looking Nakamaru making his way down the staircase, but the door was shut in his face before he could make sure.

Not much was said on the drive home, mainly just, "So how're you feeling?" from Yasu and a grumble from Nishikido. He pulled up in front of the apartment complex, and Yasu hesitated.

"Well... bye," he said, and Nishikido smiled slightly.

"Bye," he murmured, sighing. "See you on Thursday."

"Mm?" Yasu asked. "Oh, right, my lesson."

Nishikido chuckled. "Yup. See you then."

"Yes. See you."

"Bye."

"Bye."

"You can go now."

"Oh, yes, alright then."

"Thursday, then."

"At six?"

"Five-thirty."

"Right."

"Yup."

"Goodbye," Yasu said finally, feeling embarrassed for reasons unknown. Nishikido gave him a kind of half-smirk, before chuckling and clapping Yasu on the shoulder.

Yasu finally got out of the car, in a slight daze. He waved goodbye to Nishikido once again, who stuck his hand out of the window and waved back as he drove away. Yasu walked upstairs, slowly greeting Murakami as he entered the apartment.

"What's up with you?" Murakami asked, rushing past him to the mirror in the hall and fixing his tie. "And how was the party?"

Yasu sat on the couch, slowly turning to Murakami, who paused in his movements. "I think I'm in love with Nishikido." Murakami laughed. Actually laughed. Yasu felt anger and embarrassment rise inside. "What? What's so funny?"

"You, you bleeding idiot," Murakami said, leaning against the back of the couch. "You've only just figured it out?"

"Yes? I mean... I knew I liked him, but..." Yasu asked, the anger disappearing quickly. "Why?"

"Cause I knew it ages ago. You're pretty slow, eh?" Murakami chuckled, ruffling Yasu's hair affectionately. "But really, Yasu, I'm surprised you haven't figured it out sooner. The way you jerk when his name is mentioned, the way you rushed around yesterday before he came. You tried on five outfits, Yasu. Five. That's like... a record for you." Murakami said. Yasu just sighed. "What're you sighing for?"

"I don't want to be in love with Nishikido!"

"How come?"

"Because he's... he's... I don't know!" Yasu groaned, holding his head in his hands.

"Whatever. You're in love," Murakami laughed, moving back to finish getting ready.

"I'm in love?"

"You're in love."

  
>>><<<

 

Yasu walked apprehensively into the room on Thursday, nervous about being in such a small room with Nishikido, especially due to these new-found feelings. Which, according to Murakami, weren't so new at all.

Nishikido walked in a few minutes after, greeting him as he usually did. Yasu felt his stomach twist and turn, just seeing the other. Nishikido sat down with a groan, reaching for his guitar.

"Been working on those chords?" Nishikido asked, plucking a few strings.

"Oh, uh, yeah...a little."

"Wanna show me?"

Yasu nodded, moving his fingers over the fretboard of his own guitar. He counted in his head - one, two, three, four, there - until he found the right fret, pressing his index finger over all of the strings. He clucked his tongue, sighing in exasperation when the note didn't sound quite right.

"Stupid bloody thing--"

Nishikido laughed, wheeling forward. "It's okay, just move this finger here," he said, moving closer and gently taking hold of Yasu's fingers. Yasu held his breath as Nishikido took his fingers and moved them to the right strings, pressing down upon them and strumming Yasu's guitar with his free hand. "See? That's what it's meant to sound like."

"Mm," was all Yasu said, in frustration. Why wasn't Nishikido letting go?

"Zig-Zags?" Nishikido asked suddenly, looking up at him, eyes strangely soft.

"Yeah?" Yasu practically breathed, taking in Nishikido's vulnerable look.

Instead of answering, Nishikido leant forward over their guitars, pressing a small kiss at the corner of Yasu's mouth. Yasu's skin tingled, and he moved, placing his own kiss onto Nishikido's mouth. Nishikido made a sound deep in his throat, kissing him back, and finally entwining their hands together. He brought his free hand around to cup the back of Yasu's neck, caressing his skin with his thumb. Yasu could only sit there, feeling overwhelmed by every emotion running through his veins, as Nishikido kissed him sweetly, slowly.

They parted, Nishikido looking deep into his eyes uncertainly. "Is this okay?" he asked, and Yasu could only roll his eyes and kiss him again.

"Yes," he said, kissing him one, two, three times, "Yes. It's more than okay."

He felt Nishikido smile against his lips, and couldn't help but smile back. Suddenly Nishikido pulled away, eyebrows furrowed.

"What? What's wrong?" Yasu asked, worried.

"You realise that now you'll have to work even harder on those barre chords, don't you?" Nishikido asked, a cheeky grin finding it's way onto his face. Yasu hit him.

"Damn it! I thought something was seriously wrong!"

"Sorry, sorry, but I couldn't resist," Nishikido laughed, placing his guitar down. "And since you're my last class today..."

"Yes?"

"Wanna get outta here?"

"And go where, exactly?"

"No idea," Nishikido said, standing up and holding a hand out for Yasu. "Anywhere."

"Okay then," Yasu said, taking his hand.

And he never let go.  
　

\--the end


End file.
